Ensnare the Senses
by Gedia Kacela
Summary: (or The Potion Master's... Mistress?) When the Potions class finds themselves overhearing Snape's private conversation with a woman, they can only make several guesses as to who, precisely, that woman is- make that several... amusing guesses.


Ensnare the Senses...Or... The Potion Master's... Mistress?  
  
Disclaimer: It's not mine. Really.  
  
Author's Note: A crazy idea I came up with after a very enjoyable bit of watching the extended Potions class scene today. It started innocently enough... but spiraled out of control from there.  
  
But I rather like it, all in all.  
  
***  
  
As Harry, Hermione, and Ron drew nearer to the Potions classroom, they noticed the crowd of seventh year students gathered outside the door. But instead of talking, joking, or arguing, as they would have usually done had Snape locked the classroom, they were all silent.  
  
The three glanced curiously at each other and quickened their steps. "What's going on?" asked Harry, but was immediately hushed by half of those present. He cringed. "Sorry... geez..." Instead of inquiring further, the trio contented themselves with joining in, leaning forward to listen.  
  
Susan Bones tapped Hermione on the shoulder and whispered, "There's a... *girl* in there," so dramatically it was as if she expected Hermione to fall over from the shock.  
  
Ron's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "A girl?! Ewww..."  
  
Before anyone else could comment, a woman's voice did indeed drift out to them from the crack under the door, sounding distant and echoey. "Honestly, Sev..."  
  
Harry's nose crinkled. "Sev?"  
  
"... world wouldn't end if you dropped the intimidation act every once in a while." There was a pause. "Oh, that's right... I'd forgotten. It's not an act. You really are just a smarmy, dirty son-of-a-bitch, and the world is out to get you."  
  
They heard Snape's derisive snort. "Funny. I was under the impression that you liked that."  
  
She laughed slightly. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Sev, the grease and vengeful attitude really gets me... but you know as well as I do that what really did it was your little 'bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses' speech. First time I heard it... well, I must say you certainly ensnared my senses."  
  
"Well," came the response, and Hermione could practically hear the smile in his voice, "I do try my best."  
  
Ron stared blankly at the door. "That's what he *uses* that as? A pick-up line?"  
  
The boys tried to suppress their disgusted groans. "Who *is* is?" moaned a Slytherin.  
  
"Dunno," responded a girl near the door, whose ear was pressed firmly against the wood. "The voice's all distorted."  
  
"It's an escapee from a mental ward, if you ask me," said Ron with a dramatic grimace.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. You find it all that unbelievable that someone would..."  
  
"Like that disgusting greasy bat?" asked Ron.  
  
Ron and Harry looked at each other, then back at Hermione, responding in unison, "YES."  
  
She scoffed. "He's not *that* bad."  
  
Ron tapped her on the head. "Earth to 'Mione... this is SNAPE we're talking about. Remember...? Our Potions professor? Deducts points from us whenever humanly possible? Makes our lives miserable? Ugly, hooked nose, sallow skin, unwashed hair? Ring a bell?!"  
  
She rolled her eyes and pushed his hand away. "I know who we're talking about, Ron. And like I said, he's not that bad." They both looked ready to hurl. "Oh, come now... I'm not saying I want to go snog him or something..." the expressions of disgust multiplied times a thousand, "but he's not... horrendous."  
  
"Great. First you go gaga over that narcissistic git Lockhart, now you're secretly falling for slimy bastards."  
  
"I'm not falling... I'm just saying..." she stopped as the two boys pulled gagging faces and sighed. "Oh, nevermind."  
  
Before they could tease her more, Draco broke away from the group, a wicked glint in his eyes. "I bet it's McGonagall!" He reached out and pulled Parvati Patil towards him, dipping her low to the ground. "Oh Minerva," he crooned in a poor imitation of Snape's silky voice, staring deep into her eyes while she tried to contain her giggles. "Those glasses make you look so... ravishing today. How about a snog before class? And call me Sev... it makes me feel..." he closed his eyes in mock ecstasy, "so good."  
  
"No!" called someone. "Trelawney!"  
  
Pansy sauntered over to him this time, lifting her pug nose high in the air. She pushed "Minerva" away and began to run her fingers through Draco's hair. "Oh Sev... I see... grease... in your future."  
  
The students erupted in half-smothered giggles. Hermione, on the other hand, crossed her arms and did her best to look annoyed.  
  
"Sprout!" giggled another.  
  
"Sybill" changed into "Eolande Sprout" and dropped to her knees, waddling forward. "Sev," she called raspily... "I'm having trouble..." here she winked, "weeding my garden... care to help?"  
  
Draco bent down to muss her hair. "Of course, my dear... you know how I love getting my hands dirty."  
  
During this display, the student's attention had long since left the conversation going on inside the classroom, and they had also forgotten about keeping quiet. They were now laughing openly when another voice suggested, "What about Sinistra?"  
  
Draco snorted a laugh. "What, think that scatterbrained excuse of a professor can actually manage to get her head out of the stars long enough to give a decent snog?"  
  
A low, silky voice answered this time, freezing them all in place. "I'll admit it can be quite difficult, but you'd be surprised."  
  
Slowly, the students turned towards the door of the classroom, their eyes guiltily flickering up to the formidable Professor Snape. He glowered down at them from the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, looking very bat-like indeed. And at his side, with her hand resting easily on his arm, was Professor Sinistra, a slight smile playing at her thin lips.  
  
The entire dungeons fell into utter, horrified silence. After several long moments, Sinistra gently tightened her grip on Snape's arm and glided off, pausing to look down on Draco, who was eagerly studying his shoes. "I greatly look forward to seeing you later on, Mr. Malfoy, to see how able you are to remove your head from your rear and put it 'in the stars,' as you so eloquently put it."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, unable to look up.  
  
None of them, save for Hermione, saw the wink that the Astrology professor gave to Snape, or saw the smile that nearly threatened to break across his scowling face in response. "Enter," he growled, staring darkly as each student meekly passed through the doorway in front of him. "That'll be five points from Gryffindor, Watson. And five from Slytherin, Irving. And my, my, my, another five from Gryffindor." This continued as they filed into the room. "Ten from Gryffindor, Potter. Don't think that I didn't see that smile. Twenty each from Misses Patil and Parkinson for their excellent display of their acting skills. And Mr. Malfoy," he sneered as his usual pet student stepped confidently over the threshold. "I am most disappointed to take twenty points from you as well."  
  
Draco's eyes widened in shock. "My father'll hear about this!" he cried in spoiled anger.  
  
Snape clucked his tongue. "I supremely hope that he does, Mr. Malfoy." His glare fell on Hermione, the last to enter the room. "Miss Granger..." he snarled, a smirk playing at his feature. She cringed, awaiting the worst. "Find your seat, if you will, and do not keep the class waiting any longer."  
  
With that, he spun away to enter the classroom, his black robes billowing angrily about him. And, with a small smile, Hermione did find her seat so that this time, she *did* miss the sight of Professor Sinistra watching the class from across the hallway, a very pleased expression on her face.  
  
"Well," she said to herself, "it's certainly no great improvement... but it's an improvement nonetheless." And with Severus, you took what you got and didn't argue. Though admittedly, she did love to argue with him. She always lost, but it was nice to try.  
  
Perhaps one day...   
  
"Open your books to Chapter Fifty-two... Pardon me, Potter... did you have something to add to the lesson? No? Five points from Gryffindor... would you like to make it ten by arguing? I didn't think so."  
  
She shook her head laughingly and strode down the hallway. Then again, maybe not. Some things never did change, after all.  
  
END 


End file.
